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They picked up a bunch of T-bone steaks and headed back up into the mountains. The PHP compound was actually several miles outside of tiny Elkville, which was little more than a gas station and convenience store. More of an intersection than an actual settlement.

They settled back into their hide as the gloaming settled quietly around them. He commented, “This is my favorite time of day. When the colors have faded to shades of gray and night has not quite fallen.”

“Why?” she asked.

“The quiet, I suppose. Night creatures aren’t out yet, but the day creatures have all headed for home. It’s peaceful.”

“You strike me as the type to enjoy a hot firefight rather than a bucolic twilight.”

“I’m deep. I’ve got layers, kid.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re an onion. Layers and layers of smelly onion.”

He chuckled low so the sound wouldn’t carry. There was no wind to rustle the leaves and disguise any sounds they made out here. “We’ll wait till everyone’s asleep, and then we’ll stroll in and take a peek. If you want to catch a power nap, I feel pretty good.”

He leaned back against a mossy tree trunk and peered down at the soft glow of kerosene lamps shining from the PHP cabins.

It didn’t look like a terrible life these people lived.

Although, he didn’t see how they paid for things like food, clothing, and basic supplies. Maybe that was the purpose of the shop.

Why would a commune of back-to-basics freaks radicalize out of the blue?

While he tried to imagine what had changed the PHP, it started to rain.

Piper scooted further under the tarp he’d rigged like a porch roof overhead.

He gathered her against his side, and she snuggled in, more asleep than awake.

She was warm as she threw an arm across his middle.

Comfortable. The two of them fit one another.

Physically, at least. She was secretive and prickly when she was fully conscious and carried around a hell of a chip on her shoulder.

She didn’t need to. She was good at her job, and other than needing to dial back the risks she took, a decent surveillance operative.

If he had a year to train her, he could turn her into a top-flight operative.

Rain pattered down on the plastic tarp, and full night settled softly around them.

It was most relaxed he’d been since he’d spotted a sniper scope staring back at him on a rooftop in Khartoum.

Which was odd, given the crisis they were up against. Piper had that effect on him when she wasn’t driving him crazy.

He let her sleep for almost three hours before waking her gently with a kiss at her hairline.

The rain had stopped, and the last light had winked out in the compound.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” he murmured. “It’s almost midnight.

By the time we make our way down to the fence, it’ll be time to rock and roll. ”

“I’m telling you. This is a bad idea.”

“Honey, this is what I do for a living. I slide in and out like a ghost. No noise, no fuss, no one the wiser that I’ve been there.”

“Don’t underestimate these guys—“ she started.

“It’ll be fine.”

She huffed and rose to her feet. “Lead on, General Custer.”

He grinned and gave her a hand signal to zip her lip and head out. She wasn’t a trained infiltrator like he was. This stuff was his specialty, however.

The first dog to bark a short, sharp warning was rewarded immediately with a nice chunk of steak, and more importantly with the bone that would take the beast an hour or more to gnaw through.

Ian waited for Kujo to get completely engrossed in his treat before moving onward, right up next to his target building.

What the hell was Piper so tense about? These guys had no roving night guard, no electronic security, and a dog. Piece of cake?—

Oh, shit. A pack of a half-dozen dogs rushed around the corner without warning, barking their heads off.

Working frantically, he threw out steaks so everybody could have something to chew on.

They had maybe ten minutes before the dogs finished eating and loud doggie arguments started breaking out over the bones.

He signaled Piper to follow him fast. He moved to the big garage door in the back of the metal building. The padlock was an annoyance, but he picked his way through it soon enough. They had maybe five minutes to look around and get out.

Tension radiated off of Piper out of all proportion to this simple little B&E. Was she really that inexperienced? What had her boss been doing sending her to Sudan to watch anyone?

He oiled the tracks of the door as high as he could reach on both sides with a can of lubricant.

He eased the door open about eighteen inches and signaled her to hold it for him.

He laid down flat on his belly and took a look inside.

Small tires in a tricycle configuration made him frown. No tractor had wheels like that.

More to the point, he didn’t see any boots or signs of humans inside. He signaled an all clear to Piper and rolled under the door. He held it for her and waved her inside, as well. She stood up while he eased the door back down to the ground.

He made a quick circuit of the big, open space.

It was ringed with tools, spare parts, and a general layer of grease that declared it a shop.

But what he couldn’t make sense of was the small, high-winged airplane sitting in the middle of the space.

What did a bunch of folks like the PHP want with an airplane ?

Piper looked thunderstruck as she trailed him around the space. When he’d determined the building was clear, he muttered, “Does this compute?”

She shook her head emphatically in the negative.

“Have they got an airplane mechanic among them?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“They working on it for income?”

“It has been a while since I’ve peeked at their books. They never had a lot of cash, but they weren’t in dire straits the last time I checked. Their capital costs are pretty low. They own this property outright and don’t use utilities. Taxes are way low out here.”

He moved over to the airplane, which would normally be a six-seater. But a glance inside showed both rows of rear passenger seats had been removed. In fact, the seats sat off to one side of the hangar on the floor. Something bulky and oblong filled the floor of the rear area of the plane.

He reached for the pilot’s door handle.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

“Finding out what’s under that tarp in the back of the plane.”

She scowled at him as he slipped into the cramped cockpit and maneuvered onto his knees on the pilot’s seat. He lifted the tarp and swore. “You gotta look at this,” he muttered.

He lifted the tarp enough for her to peer through the window, and for good measure, he shined his flashlight on what looked like a giant motor underneath. The kind kids built in school with an oversized coil of copper wire wrapped around a central core.

“What on earth?” she breathed.

What were the PHP doing with a complicated electronic device inside a freaking airplane? Color him confused?—

--A dozen flashlights pointed at the airplane all at once, and the distinctive chink of shotgun shells being chambered froze Ian on his knees in the seat. He let the tarp slip from his fingers unobtrusively and drop back over the device.

“I told you,” Piper commented in a regular speaking voice.

“Out of the plane! Hands behind your head! Move nice and slow or I’ll feed you to the dogs in little pieces.”

The guy didn’t sound like he was kidding.

Ian reviewed the infiltration step by step in his head trying to figure out where he’d gone wrong.

Did these guys actually have some sort of electronic surveillance system after all?

He hadn’t even bothered to check for one.

But if they were harboring a high-tech airplane loaded with some sort of complex motor, who knew what other technology they might be using.

He could kick himself for being so sloppy.

Rough hands shoved him onto his belly on the cold, concrete floor and frisked him thoroughly.

The voice that had yelled at him before ordered, “Light some lanterns.”

In a few seconds, a trio of lanterns flared to life, sending a faint, propane-scented hiss into the night.

“What the hell?” the man’s voice exclaimed.

From beside him Piper said in a small voice, “Hi, Daddy.”